Mon Ami
by Trn736
Summary: When Kenny's abusive, alcoholic parents take things one step too far, someone is there for him.
1. Chapter 1

All characters and places referenced to the show **_South Park_ **are property of Matt Stone and Trey Parker.

* * *

*_Kenny is assumed to be **mortal** in this story*_

"Talk to you Monday, Kenny," "See you later, dude," "Later, poor boy," Kyle, Stan, and Cartman bid farewell to Kenny as they neared his house.

"Bye guys," he waved.

It was a cool Friday evening. The boys had been playing outside since school let out until just a little while ago. Everyone decided they better be heading home before it got too dark or before they got yelled at for missing dinner.

Everyone except Kenny, that is. As he broke off from the group and turned onto his street, Kenny knew his parents could care less what time he came home - hell, they could care less if he came home at all. Kenny knew there would be no dinner for him to be late to, there hardly ever was - even _if_ there was, the only thing he would be missing was either stale discount waffles or cheap takeout, on a good night.

Kenny figured he would go home tonight and rummage through their dilapidated refrigerator only to find some sour lunch meat he would put between two pieces of molding bread and try to hold out for school lunch on Monday. He would listen to his parents whoop and holler while they drank late into the night until they inevitably drank to much and started arguing. Whimpering in his room he would listen to them yell and scream, break things, and hit each other until they were either too drunk or too high to care anymore and would pass out on the floor.

After the house is quiet, he would cautiously leave his room and make his nightly round. He would check on his sister, his brother, and his parents to make sure everyone was okay and still alive. He would close the windows and check the door. He would turn off the old television and the lights. He would take the pot, the meth, the heroin - whatever this Friday's drug of choice had been - and hide it so his parents would not get busted for drugs when the local PD broke the door down on reports of a domestic disturbance, aggravated assault, or child neglect one of these nights. He would finally get to bed around 4 AM only to be woken the next morning by arguing about the previous night's events: "Why the hell did you break that?!" "Where did you put the pot, bitch?!" etc.

At least his siblings did not have to deal with this shit on this particular weekend. Kevin was out of town with a friend and Karen was staying the weekend at one of her friend's. Kenny still had to deal with it but it made him feel better to know his brother and sister were out of harms way if mom or dad took things too far.

As Kenny approached his ran-down house he could already hear commotion through the barely-intact screen door, "Give me another one of those!"

"Shut your mouth, woman! I'm tryin' to watch TV!"

"Don't you tell me to shut up you bastard!"

Kenny took a seat in front of the door still outside, he buried his head in his arms.

"I don't need to stand here and let some whore insult me!" There was a loud slapping noise.

"How dare you!" Kenny could hear tables being overturned and things hitting the wall.

"You crazy bitch!" They argued louder, slurring words.

Kenny closed his eyes and tried to pretend this was not happening, as he did almost every night. He tried to pretend this was not his life - these were not his parents. He tried to pretend his parents were more like Kyle's or Stan's. Parents who did not get drunk on a nightly basis or do drugs. Parents who did not break things or hit each other… Parents who hugged their kids and told them they loved them. Parents who tried to make their kids feel safe instead of scared to even be in the house…

Tears welled in his eyes.

A dirty plate flew through a nearby window, shattering the glass.

Startled, Kenny jumped to his feet and wiped his eyes.

"Get out of my house you good-for-nothing prick!" She threw another object at her husband.

"This is my house too bi-", the screen door banged shut.

"Bitch!"

"Stop!" Kenny yelled. "Please stop!"

Both adults looked at him, stunned.

"I'm not going to have any son of mine just show up and tell me what the hell to do in my own house," Stuart stormed over to Kenny.

"Wait! I just," he stuttered, "I just - We just shouldn't break things. Everything costs money when it gets broken!" He exasperated.

"I make money…," his mother stated in a very matter-of-factly drunk tone, referring to her job washing dishes at a restaurant.

"Yeah, but some of these thing a lot of money… Like that window," he pointed.

"Are you sayin' I'm not workin' hard 'nough?!" She stormed over to her son as well.

"No! Mom, I know you work really hard!" Kenny recoiled.

"I don't see your lazy ass working, Kenny! You're gone all day and you don't make any money for this family!"

"I'm nine, mom! I'm at school all day!" He was backed against the wall.

"Oh, so you're sayin' _I'm_ lazy. That it?!" Stuart clenched his fists, moving closer to Kenny.

"You _are _lazy you redneck piece of trash! All you do is sit here and drink!" Carol spat.

This sent him over the edge. He grabbed Kenny by the throat and held him up against the wall.

"Dad…," he choked, gasping for air, "Please…!"

With his free hand, Stuart cocked his hand back and struck the boy as hard as he possibly could with a backhanded closed fist to the face. The strike recoiled the back of his head into the wall before his dad dropped him to the ground.

Blood ran from his nose onto the carpet as he dizzly hyperventilated.

"You just hit our son!" Carol slapped him.

"I'll do it again, bitch! This is my house!" He walked back over to Kenny and kicked him hard in the ribs.

The intense pain blurred his vision.

"He was bein' disrespectful!"

Kenny stopped moving.


	2. Chapter 2

Kenny slowly began to regain consciousness.

The first sense he realized was the intense taste of iron in his mouth.

A taste he knew all too well - blood.

His breathing was naturally shallow, if he inhaled too deeply he felt like he was being stabbed in the side.

He cracked his eyes open.

The blurred, brightly-lit room made his head throb.

He quickly shut his eyes, feeling sick to his stomach.

He concentrated on the heartbeat he could hear in his head until he felt calm enough to open his eyes again.

He opened his eyes slowly, squinting through the light.

As the blurred scene before him gradually began to sharpen, he realized he was on the floor.

He had almost forgotten where he was until he tilted his head slightly and saw both of his parents passed out on the couch in their filthy living room.

Kenny closed his eyes again, remembering what had happened.

He stayed on the floor for many minutes, unsure if he had the strength - or was in any condition - to stand up.

He decided he had to.

He had to get out of here.

He was not sure where he would go or what he would do, but he decided he could not stay here.

Kenny gingerly propped himself to a sitting position and struggled onto his feet with the aid of a wall as leverage.

He felt incredibly dizzy standing up.

He pushed up against the wall, trying to support himself.

After a few minutes of acclimating, Kenny let go of the wall and wobbled toward the door.

He laboriously staggered block after block before eventually coming across the bus stop.

His knees felt weak.

_I'll take a break here…_

Kenny plopped down onto the curb of the street and lounged back onto the sidewalk, closing his eyes.

He felt like he was going to pass out.

The dead silence of the night was broken by the faint pattering of footsteps.

They became louder as the person neared.

"Kenny?!" A concerned voice forced him to open his eyes slightly and turn his head.

He could see a small boy hurrying toward him.

"Butters…?"


	3. Chapter 3

"Kenny, are you okay?" Butters approached, unable to see anything other than a silhouette of the boy and his identifying orange parka.

As Butters neared the image became much clearer.

Kenny's hood was draped over his shoulders.

His face and jacket were covered in dried blood. Fresh blood matted his messy blonde hair. His chest rose and fell sharply, wheezing with every breath.

"Oh my gosh!" Butters kneeled beside the semi-conscious boy, "What the heck happened?!" He spoke frantically.

"Ugh…"

"Do I need to call an ambulance?!"

"Butters…," Kenny turned his head and opened his eyes slightly to look at his panicking friend, "What are you doing out here so late…? Aren't you going to get grounded or something…?"

"It doesn't matter what I'm doing out here! You should be glad I came along! You need help!" Butters exasperated.

"Just answer the damn question…," Kenny insisted.

"Wul… My - my parents are out of town tonight and I have a babysitter… She fell asleep and I just s-snuck out for a few minutes to get some fresh air…"

"Oh…"

"I think you need to go to the hospital…," Butters reiterated.

"I'm not going to the hospital," Kenny spoke concisely.

Sure, he probably had a broken rib or two, a concussion, and some internal bleeding but going to the hospital was out of the question for more than just a financial reason.

"You're hurt really bad, Kenny… You need to see a doctor," Butters nagged.

"I can't…"

"Why not?" Butters asked, confused.

"I just can't…," his voice hitched.

Butters sat down next to his friend and put a hand on his arm, "What happened, Kenny? You can tell me… I promise I won't tell anyone…"

The injured boy sighed, "My parents were drunk when I came home. They were arguing and I guess I said something my dad didn't like… So he grabbed me by the throat and slammed me against the wall… I think he hit me in the face and then kicked me in the side or something… I don't really remember all that well… I just remember something like that and then waking up on the floor," Kenny moaned as he sat up slowly, tears welling in his eyes.

Butters now understood why Kenny didn't want to go to the hospital. As bad as his parents were, the last time they both got arrested and the kids were sent into foster care, things did not work out well.

"There, there…," Butters pat Kenny on the back, "Everything'll be okay, buddy… You're safe with me," he pulled him into a gentle hug.

Kenny returned the embrace through sniffles.

"Will you at least come with me and s-stay at my house tonight if you won't go to the hospital?" Butters asked as he pulled away from the hug.

"Won't your parents be made when they get back…?"

"They're not supposed to be home until late tomorrow night and I don't think the babysitter will notice… She - she doesn't pay much attention.

Kenny nodded weakly.

Butters stood up and extended a hand to Kenny.

He pulled the dizzy boy to his feet and steadied him as they began to make there way back toward Butters' house.


	4. Chapter 4

The two arrived at Butters' house a few minutes later.

Butters unlocked the front door with a key from under the door mat and opened it quietly before poking his head in and looking around.

"Keep quiet, okay?"

Kenny nodded.

Butters helped him past the living room, lit only by the light from the television, and up the stairs to the bathroom.

"S-sit down," Butters gently sat him down on the toilet, "And take your jacket off, it's all bloody…"

Kenny unzipped his coat and in attempting to remove an arm from the sleeve a sharp pain shot through his side, he winced.

"Here," Butters carefully helped Kenny remove his arms from the jacket and dropped it in the corner of the room on the tile floor.

"Thanks…," Kenny held his side.

Butters smiled, "Let's clean up your face first…," he tenderly wiped away dried blood with a warm washcloth.

"Do you still feel dizzy?" Butters asked as he cleaned the washcloth in the sink.

"Kinda…"

Butters examined the injured boy's bloody, matted blonde hair.

He spotted a cut on the back of his head where it was slammed into the wall.

"It looks like you h-hurt the back of your head… It's bleeding a little still but it's not too bad… We need to clean it off…"

Butters tried to clean the wound with the washcloth but was not having much luck.

"T-this might be easier if we just wash your hair out," he extended his hand and helped Kenny over to the sink, "Just put your head down and I'll just run some water through it, okay?"

"'Kay…," Kenny tried to hold his head under the faucet.

It only took a few minutes to clean all the blood and dirt out of his hair.

"Here," Butters handed him a towel.

Kenny dried his hair off and handed Butters back the towel.

"Aw…," Butters moaned as he looked at some fresh blood spots on the towel, "My parents are gonna kill me…," he piled the towel on the ground with Kenny's coat.

"Sorry…," Kenny replied remorsefully.

"It's not your fault, Kenny…," Butters rummaged around in the cabinet under the sink for a moment before pulling out a first aid kit.

He grabbed out a gauze pad and a roll of bandage.

He applied the gauze pad to the cut and began wrapping the bandage around Kenny's head.

"You probably won't have to wear this tomorrow but j-just keep it on tonight… So you don't get blood on anything else."

"There!" Butters announced upon securing the dressing with a piece of medical tape, "I bet that makes you feel a million times better!"

Kenny looked at his friend and broke a small smile.

"What?" Butters prompted the nearly-smirking boy.

"Sh-Should I call you Doctor Butters…?"

"I'd prefer Doctor Stotch, Mr. McCormick," Butters grinned.

Kenny let out a chuckle, immediately doubling over from the pain shooting through his side.

"Geez…," Butters said with concern, "Let me see your side; pull your shirt up."

Kenny gingerly raised his dirty white t-shirt, exposing his badly bruised ribs. A large area was dark blue and purple.

"Kenny…," Butters began, "That looks really bad… Between that and your head you - you really need to go to the hospital, I think you might have broken ribs or something…"

"I'll - I'll be okay…"

Butters sighed, "Alright…," he stood up, "Wait here, I'll be right back."

He returned a few moments later with a spare pair of green pajamas.

"You can borrow these," he handed Kenny the clothes, "I - I usually wear the blue pair but they're made out of the same material and it's really comfy…," Butters stepped out into the hall, "Just come to my room after you change… You'll be okay?"

"Yeah…," Kenny smiled, "Thanks."

"Just put your other clothes with your jacket and w-we'll deal with that tomorrow," Butters closed the door.

Kenny walked into Butters' room a few minutes later.

"Those look good on you!" Butters laughed as he inspected the other boy.

"Heh… They - they are pretty comfy…," Kenny yawned.

Butters shook his head in agreement, now changed into his own pajamas, "You look beat… You should lie down," he patted the open area beside him on his bed with the covers pulled back.

"You don't have to share your bed with me… You've already done a lot more than you should have…," His voice was laced with guilt.

"There's plenty of room, Kenny… I'm not gonna let you s-sleep on the floor tonight… And what was I s-supposed to do? Leave my hurt best friend to sleep on the sidewalk by the bus stop?"

"B-best friend…?" Kenny stammered.

"Wul, yeah… Most of the other guys think I'm weird or s-something and don't really like to hang out with me unless there's no one else… Kinda like the last choice thing…," Butters looked down at his hands fidgeting in his lap.

Kenny studied the other boy.

"You - you always hang out with me and ask me to do things… You care… That's why you're my best friend…"

"You're my best friend too, Butters…," Kenny pat him on the shoulder.

Butters smiled.

The two sat in silence for a short time.

"Hey, you hungry?" Butters prompted.

It took a moment for Kenny to realize his stomach was growling, "Yeah."

"You want some cereal or something? I kinda want a snack too."

It had been a long while since Kenny was able to have a bowl of cereal soaked in anything other than sour or almost-sour milk. The only fresh milk he got was with school lunches.

"That sounds really good."

Butters jumped up and went downstairs.

He returned a few minutes later with a handful of stuff.

He sat some stuff down on his dresser and handed Kenny a bowl and a spoon, "All we had was Cheerios."

"That's fine with me, dude."

Just before he was able to take a bite Butters presented him with a glass of water and two pills, "Take this Tylenol before you eat, it should make you feel a little better."

Kenny nodded and downed the two painkillers.

"Take this too," he handed Kenny an ice pack, "Put it on your side."

He shuddered at the sudden cold as he sat the ice pack against his hurt side.

"Thanks, Butters… Thanks for being here for me…"

"Any time, Kenny."

The two talked for a little while as they ate their snack.

After a relatively long stretch of silence, Butters spoke, "So, Kenny -," he stopped mid-sentence as he looked at the other boy; he was fast asleep.

Butters yawned as he switched off the light in his room and pulled the covers over Kenny and himself, deciding to call it a night as well.


	5. Chapter 5

Knock, knock, knock.

"Butters?"

The boy's eyes sleepily opened to sun pouring through the window into his room.

"Butters?"

He almost fell out of bed, realizing the babysitter was still there and Kenny had stayed the night unannounced.

"Y-yeah…?" He hurried to his bedroom door.

"Are you alright?" Butters sensed her voice was laced with unusual concern.

"Why…?" He spoke through the door.

"There's a pile of your clothes on the bathroom floor - the jacket's bloody."

"Oh… Th-that…?" He stuttered, "Well… I kinda - I kinda had a nosebleed last night and it got a little messy… I guess I j-just forgot to pick them up…"

"Alright… You might want to wash them before your parents get home," she accepted his response.

"'Kay," Butters replied, almost stunned she believed his lie.

"I could help you throw them in the washer if you want?"

"I - I can do it, thanks though…"

"There's some cereal on the table when you want breakfast."

"Alright…"

Butters could hear footsteps moving away from his door and back down the stairs.

He turned around and stared into space for a few moments - she was never this nice - before realizing Kenny was smirking at him from his sitting position on the bed.

"She must not pay much attention if she thinks those old, dirty, torn up clothes are yours," Kenny chuckled.

"I guess…," Butters returned to his bed and sat back down next to the other boy.

"How are you feeling?"

"A little better… I'm still pretty sore though…"

"You still feel dizzy or sick or anything?"

"Not really," the boy carefully removed the bandage around his head, it had stopped bleeding.

"That's good!" Butters smiled.

"Thanks to you," Kenny smiled back.

"You think we should maybe get your clothes cleaned up before my parents get home?"

"If you don't want to get grounded, I suppose that would be a good idea."

Butters laughed.

"The washer's just down the hall if you want to come."

Butters grabbed Kenny's clothes as they passed by the bathroom and entered the utility room.

Butters opened the wash machine and threw the pile of clothes in.

He pushed a stool over to the machine.

"Alright… So…," he studied the various dials on the control panel, "How do you do laundry…?"

"Didn't your babysitter offer to put them in?" Kenny questioned the struggling boy.

"Yeah…"

"Well, why didn't you let her do it then?" Kenny said in a very serious tone.

"Because I thought all I had to do was put the clothes in and push a button, Kenny! That's what mom does!" Butters sounded annoyed.

Kenny laughed, "Well first thing you gotta do is make sure is whites are separated from colors or else the colors will bleed onto the white, but since my t-shirt is the only white thing in there and it's practically so dirty it's a different color already; that doesn't matter right now," he paused for a moment before resuming, "Then you have to add some detergent to actually clean the clothes," he added some soap to the machine from a nearby box, "Then all you have to do is set it," he motioned for a position on the stool before turning a few dials and hitting a square button.

The wash machine started up.

"Whoa, Kenny!" Butters was surprised, "How did you know that?"

"Sometimes I manage to scrounge up a little bit of extra money and I take some of me and my sister's clothes to the laundromat so we can have clean clothes every once and a while…"

Butters looked at his best friend caringly, he thought it was too sad to say anything.

The two sat in silence until the wash machine stopped.

"This is the easy part," Kenny stood up and opened the dryer and threw the wet clothes in, "You just throw one of these in," he grabbed a dryer sheet from a nearby box, "and just set a time - like 40 minutes or something," he dialed in a time and hit a button.

The dryer started up.

"Thanks for teaching me how to do laundry, Kenny," Butters laughed.

Kenny nodded.

"You want some breakfast while this finishes?" Butters stood up.

"Sure," Kenny graciously accepted the chance at real food yet again.

Butters returned a few minutes later with a paper plate holding two frosted toaster pastries.

"Toaster Strudels! Sweet!"

"I -I figured since we had cereal last night I'd switch it up a bit," Butter handed him one.

"These things are awesome! All we get at my house are off-brand Pop Tarts if I'm lucky…"

The two ate their breakfast and talked some more.

The dryer buzzed.

Kenny collected his clothes and turned to Butters.

"Turn around," Kenny prompted.

"Why…?" Butters was confused.

"'Cause I'm gonna get dressed, dude!"

"Oh!" Butters turned to the wall quickly, embarrassed.

"'Kay!" Kenny called.

Butters turned back around.

Kenny handed Butters the pajamas he let him borrow.

"Well… I better get home before you get grounded… And to make sure my parents haven't killed each other or something…," Kenny looked at the ground.

"A-alright, pal…," Butters hugged the other boy tight, "You're always welcome here - even if my parents are home, we'll figure s-something out."

Kenny returned the hug, "Thanks, dude."

Butters quietly led him to the door.


	6. Chapter 6

Butters anxiously glanced at the clock above the doorway from his desk in Mr. Garrison's fourth grade classroom: 7:50.

Ten minutes to the start of class on Monday morning and Kenny was still nowhere to be found.

Stan and Kyle had said the other boy did not show up at the bus stop this morning, they said he was probably sick.

Butters was worried Kenny's parents – mainly his dad – did something to him as punishment for spending the night at his house on Friday unannounced.

In light of recent events, Butters thought this to be much more probable than Kenny coming down with a cold or the flu – though he hoped for the latter.

Butters fidgeted his hands hoping his friend was alright and trying to convince himself that was true.

7:55.

Hurried footsteps could be heard in the nearby hallway.

Butters looked up at the door just in time to see Kenny rush in.

The boys' clothes appeared to be hastily thrown on. His hood was draped over his shoulders exposing his messy blonde hair. His jacket was half-zipped and one of his shoes was untied. He supported a black-and-blue left eye, which appeared to be rather painfully swollen with a small cut above the eyebrow.

Butters' heart sank.

Kenny made his way to his desk, Butters remained silent.

"Holy crap, Kenny!" Stan exclaimed, "What the heck happened?!"

Kenny looked at the other boy quizzically, "What…?"

"Your eye, dude! What happened?!"

"Oh…," Kenny sighed, "I… I got into a fight with Kevin over the weekend…," his voice trailed off.

"Looks like your brother won!" Cartman laughed.

"Shut up, Cartman!" Kyle snapped, "It's not funny!"

Kyle turned to Kenny, "Are you okay? That looks like it hurts…"

"Yeah…," Kenny replied quietly.

"It looks really swollen, you should see the nurse. I bet she could give you some ice," Kyle suggested.

"I'm fine…," Kenny reassured.

"If you say so," Kyle turned back to the front of the room as Mr. Garrison walked in just before the bell.

He placed his things on his desk and turned to the students, immediately noticing the disheveled blonde boy and his obvious black eye.

"Jesus, Kenny. What happened to you? It looks like you had a rough weekend," a hint of sincere concern could be heard in Garrison's voice.

Kenny mumbled something incoherently.

"Your eye looks really swollen, Kenny. You should go pay the nurse a visit. I'll write you a pass."

"I told you, dude," Kyle commented.

"Alright…," Kenny mumbled as he retrieved the piece of paper and left the room.

About an hour later, the boy walked through the door holding a plastic baggie full of ice to his injured eye.

He returned to his seat.

"Feel better?" Stan whispered.

"Sure…," Kenny nodded.

"Now that we have Kenny back," Mr. Garrison began, "We can get this science quiz out of the way."

The whole class groaned.

"It's not that bad… Since we're going to start talking about the body tomorrow, this is basically just a pre-test to show me what you know."

The collective class groaned again.

Garrison sighed, "We're going to do this a little differently than normal… I want you all to break up into groups of two. I'll ask a question and you'll have a minute to talk it over with your partner. After a minute I'll call on a group for answer. If that group doesn't get it correct, I'll move on to another group and so on. I'll keep score for questions answered correctly and we can have a little game."

The students rearranged themselves in groups of two by pushing their desks together.

Butters looked at Kenny.

Kenny beckoned him over while still holding the makeshift icepack to his eye.

Butters pushed his desk over to Kenny's.

"Is everyone set, then?" Garrison had waited for the sound of moving desks to stop.

"Let's get started… First question…"

Butters blocked out the first handful of relatively simple questions in thought of what to do with Kenny, luckily not being called for a response. Kenny had not said a word to him all morning and Butters had done the same. He wanted to ask what was going on but could not bring himself to do it in the moment.

"Alright, class. Good job with the first set of questions. This last set is going to be a little more difficult than the first set but they're also going to be worth twice as many points to make it fair for groups I didn't call on in the first round."

"First question: A joint is a place where two or more bones meet. Simply, what are the three types of joints?"

"Immovable, moveable, and partly movable… I'm not sure what they're actually called but that's what they are," Kenny whispered.

"What?" Butters whispered back.

"The answer to the question."

"Are you sure? What kind of joint can't you move? That seems weird."

"Like the bones in skull, I think. Just trust me…"

"There's more than one bone in the skull?" He asked skeptically.

"Time's up!" Garrison announced.

"Kenny and Butters?" He prompted the group for an answer.

"Uh… Immovable, movable, and partly movable?" Butters spoke.

"That's correct! Good job!"

"Wow…," Butters whispered, "Good job,"

"Thanks..."

"Next question: The heart consists of four chambers. Out of the four chambers there are only two different types. What are the two types of heart chambers?"

"Atrium and ventricle," Kenny whispered again.

Butters looked at the boy curiously.

"Craig and Tweek?"

"We're not sure…," Craig responded.

"Wendy and Bebe?"

"I know one is the atrium but we can't think of the other," Wendy responded in a frustrated tone.

"Kenny and Butters?"

"Atrium and ventricle," Butters offered.

"Correct!"

"Last question: How many bones are there in the adult human body?"

"206," Kenny whispered almost instantaneously.

"Kyle and Stan?"

"Aren't there 206?" Kyle answered.

"That's correct!"

Butters looked at Kenny, amazed.

"It looks like Stan and Kyle are our winners!" Garrison tallied a final score, "You all did very well, though."

The super best friends high-fived.

The lunch bell rang.

Students funneled out of the classroom and into the halls.

Kenny tossed his melted baggie of ice into the trashcan on the way out.

Butters was one of the last students to make it through the lunch line.

Instead of his usual spot at the table with Stan, Kyle, and all the other guys, Kenny sat alone at a table on the far end of lunch room.

Butters sat down beside him.

"Hey, Kenny."

"Hey…"

Kenny had hardly even touched the only semi-real meal he would get all day.

"How did you know all those answers? That w-was incredible!"

"I'm not as stupid and worthless as some people think I am…," Kenny hung his head low.

"You're not stupid or worthless, Kenny… You were great… We totally sh-shoulda won. It wasn't fair how Garrison asked Stan and Kyle a lot of questions…"

"Life isn't fair," Kenny spat.

Butters sighed.

"So… Are you going to tell me what happened?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Kenny responded in an almost-broken tone.

"You need to tell me, Kenny… I need to make sure you're okay…," Butters eyes were filled with concern.

"I don't 'need' to tell anyone anything!" Kenny's eyes filled with tears, "I told you, I don't want to talk about it!" He stormed off.

The remainder of the day drug on for what seemed like an eternity.

The three o'clock bell rang out.

"We'll pick up here tomorrow!" Mr. Garrison called out over the ruckus of anxious elementary students grabbing their belongings and hurrying into hall, "Don't forget to read pages 30-45!"

Butters walked with Kenny as the last two kids out of the classroom and to their lockers.

"Are you s-still mad at me?" Butters asked as he threw his books into the locker.

Kenny closed his locker and turned to Butters.

He knew Butters only wanted to make sure he was okay – that he would be okay. Butters' only wrongdoing was caring for his best friend.

Kenny felt guilty he had yelled at Butters over lunch just for that reason.

"I was never mad at you… I didn't mean to yell at you during lunch… I'm sorry…," Kenny hung his head dejectedly.

Butters put his arm around Kenny's shoulder, "You don't need to apologize, Kenny… It's okay."

The two exited the school building together.

"You doing anything tonight?" Butters prompted.

"No… Why?"

"I was wondering if you m-maybe wanted to come over to my house for a while? You could even stay for dinner… I already asked my mom, she said it would be okay. We're having spaghetti."

"Really…?" Kenny was surprised by the offer.

"Yeah!"

"What time?"

"Well… You could c-come over right now and we could play until dinner or something?"

Kenny broke a smile for the first time in days.

"That would be pretty sweet, dude."

Butters led the way to his house.


	7. Chapter 7

"Your eye looks a whole lot better than it did this morning," Butters commented as the two boys walked.

"Really?" Kenny was unsure.

"Yeah."

"That's good, I guess… It still hurts just as much as it did this morning though."

Butters felt bad for even bringing it up again, "I could get you a-another ice pack if you want when we get to my house."

"Maybe some Tylenol or something too? My ribs still hurt from a few days ago… We don't have much besides Vicodin and stuff like that at my house…," Kenny looked ashamed, "If not, that's cool; I'm pretty used to pain anyway…"

"I'll fix you up, buddy," Butters pat him on the back, at a loss for anything else to say.

They arrived at the Stotch residence a short time later.

Butter's opened the door.

"I'm home, dad!" He yelled.

"Alright!" Mr. Stotch walked out from the kitchen wearing an apron and staring at the back of a noodle box, "Your mother is going to be out until later tonight, so she told me to make dinner… Is your friend still coming over? I need to know how many noodles I need to make."

"Kenny's standing right beside me, dad!" Butters laughed.

"Oh. Hello, Ken-," he glanced up at the boys, "Man, you have a heck of a shiner there, Kenny."

"It might do you good to hang out with someone tough for a change…," Mr. Stotch continued on a tangent, "Just don't go getting any bright ideas about getting in fights you can't win, Butters; If you come home with a black eye, you are grounded, mister!"

"Yes, sir…," Butters replied reluctantly as Kenny scowled quietly beside him.

"Dinner should be ready in about an hour - maybe," He turned around and began to walk back into the kitchen talking to himself "Half a box in boiling water for four-five servings… Gah! I'm just cooking the whole damn box."

"I thought you said it looked better," Kenny turned to Butters in a somewhat angry tone.

"I s-said it looks better… Not that it was gone…"

Kenny shook his head as he followed Butters to his room.

"Just make yourself comfortable," Butters motioned into his room, "I'll go get an ice pack and some pain meds."

Kenny looked at his battered face in the mirror above Butters' dresser before taking a seat at the foot of his bed, wincing in pain from his more-than-likely-broken ribs.

Butters returned promptly with a bottle of water and an ice pack.

He closed the door.

"Here," he handed Kenny the bottle, the pack, and two pills from his pocket, "We must have used the last of the Tylenol on Friday, all we have left is Advil."

"That's fine… Thanks." Kenny downed the pills and held the ice pack to his side.

Butters sat down beside him.

"So… Are you gonna tell me what happened, K-Kenny?" Butters spoke in a caring tone.

Kenny rotated the ice pack to his eye before he spoke, "My - my dad… He was really drunk. He told me to get him another beer… So I went to the fridge and I guess we were all out. I - I told him we didn't have any more and he told me to go get some… I'm too young to buy alcohol, obviously… I told him that and he didn't like it… So he got up, backed me against the wall, and punched me in the face really hard…"

Kenny alternated the ice pack back to his side.

Butters could see tears welling in his eyes.

"Then he proceeded to stand over me and yell and scream about how stupid and worthless I am - I think… He hit me so hard I could see stars…"

Butters scooted closer to his friend.

"Usu-Usually he would just slap me or hit me with a belt… It's never been this bad… And he's only doing it to me! I don't know what I did wrong!" Kenny was full-on crying by this point.

"He's actually really hurting me now…"

Butters pulled his best friend into a tight hug.

Kenny returned the embrace and cried into his friend's neck.

"There, there," Butters comfortingly pat him on the back, "It's okay, Kenny… You're safe with me… It'll be okay…"

Butters held his distressed friend for multiple minutes.

Kenny pulled away after he finally calmed down.

"Butters?" He sniffled, wiping his eyes.

"Yeah, pal?"

"I'm kinda scared… I don't want to go home anymore…," he shook.

Butters embraced him again.

"I know I promised I wouldn't s-say anything, but this is getting out of control, Ken…"

"I know…"

"If he does something like this one more time, we need to tell someone… Okay?"

"Okay…"

A few minutes passed by in silence.

Butters let go of Kenny and spoke, "You maybe want to play a board game or something before dinner?"

Kenny yawned, "Would it be okay if I took a nap until dinner? I haven't been sleeping very well in my house…," he reclined back onto the bed.

"Sure!" Butters smiled, "You probably got a little while since my dad is cooking," he laughed.

"Sorry…," Kenny felt like he was being a joykill.

"It's okay, we can play another time," Butters retrieved a soft, fleece blanket from his closet and threw it over Kenny - his eyes were already closed.

"Thanks…," he spoke tiredly.

* * *

"Kenny," Butters gently shook the boy.

"Kenny," he shook him again.

Kenny stretched and opened his eyes.

"Dinner's ready!" He pulled the blanket off his friend.

The two made their way to the dining room and sat down at the table with Mr. and Mrs. Stotch.

Dinner was relatively quiet, aside from idle conversation between the family members.

"Thanks for dinner," Kenny spoke as he took his dishes to the kitchen sink after eating his fill, "It was really good!"

"You're welcome," Mr. Stotch grinned at his accomplishment of a successful dinner.

"We have some ice cream if you would like some for dessert," Mrs. Stotch offered.

"But Butters can't have any, he's still grounded from sweets for misplacing the Oreos in the pantry last month."

"Aww…" Butters whined.

Considering dessert, Kenny glanced at the clock hung above the kitchen doorway.

"8:30?!" He said aloud as his eyes widened in disbelief.

"Yeah… It took dad a while to get dinner ready," Butters commented.

"Hey! Watch it, mister!"

"Sorry, sir…"

"I need to get home! I'll take you up some other time on that dessert, Mrs. Stotch. Thanks again for dinner, it was good!" Kenny rushed out of the door and broke out in a dead sprint for his house.

All three members of the Stotch family were taken back by how fast the other boy left.

"He must be late," Stephen commented.

Butters felt a pit in his stomach.

* * *

Kenny quietly opened his front door - as quiet as the squeak old screen door would allow.

Maybe his parents were already so drunk they had forgotten he was suppose to be home at 6:00 for some reason on this night, though they normally did not care. Maybe his parents had been out since before six and would never had known he was late. Maybe his parents would not be mad…

"Kenny!" His father stumbled through the kitchen by his mother and into the living room.

No such luck.

"You're late, Kenny!" His words slurred.

"Why you late, Kenny?" His mother's words were slurred as well.

"I - I was at a friend's… They let me stay for dinner…"

"Let you stay for dinner, eh?" Stuart moved closer to his son, "What kinda food?"

"S-spaghetti…," his voice quivered.

"Out of a can?" His mother prompted.

"N-no… It was homemade…"

"Homemade spaghetti!" His father yelled, "You just think you're so much better than the rest of us here, don't ya?"

"No!" Kenny exasperated.

"You're right! You're not better than any of us! You're worthless, Kenny. You're even more worthless than your brother and sister!" His voice rose.

"Stupid boy!" He lunged at Kenny, Kenny dodged out of the way and Stuart hit the wall.

Furious, he managed to turn around and grab hold of Kenny.

"You think you can run from me, you little bastard?!" He began to hit Kenny repeatedly in the head, in the face, in the chest.

"Please! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Kenny begged him to stop.

He threw Kenny to the ground near the coffee table in the living room before grabbing him by the shirt and kneeling down to his level.

"This is what you get… For trying to stand up to me, you little prick!" He cocked his hand back as if to throw another punch.

Kenny, barely conscious, knew this time it was not going to stop.

In a split-second decision, Kenny grabbed an empty beer bottle from the nearby table and smashed it over Stuart's head with all his might.

Stuart staggered back and dropped Kenny as the bottle shattered.

Kenny quickly scrambled to his feet ready to run, adrenaline blocking the pain of his newly sustained injuries.

Before Kenny could make a move, his father recovered and reached into his back waistband.

Kenny was paralyzed with fear as he realized he was staring down the barrel of his drunken father's loaded .38 revolver.

Livid, he screamed, "You really did it this time you worthless son of a bitch!"


	8. Chapter 8

"D-dad…," Kenny shook with fear, "P-please…"

"The hell are you doing, you drunk bastard?!" Carol exasperated, though drunk in her own right.

"I'm teachin' our worthless son a lesson!" He yelled.

"You can't shoot our kid!" She slurred.

"Shut up, woman!" He turned the gun to her.

Stuart could barely hold the gun straight in his severely intoxicated state.

"I - I'm s-sorry… I won't fight back… I won't run… P-please…," Kenny begged.

"You're right," Stuart slurred as he turned back to Kenny, "You can't fight back when you're fuckin' dead!"

He struck the boy full-force in the head with the steel pistol.

Kenny dropped to the ground in excruciating pain.

"Get up!" He commanded his injured son.

Kenny struggled to get back on his feet but eventually staggered into a standing position.

Stuart hit him again in a similar manner.

Kenny's legs gave out from under him again.

"Get up!" He pulled the hammer back.

Kenny teetered on the brink of unconsciousness, "I – I can't…"

Stuart shrugged as he held up the gun, "One less mouth to waste money on!"

"Wait! Please!" Karen yelled, running from her hiding spot with her older brother in the hallway to Kenny's side.

"Karen, no!" Kevin called behind her.

She knelt next to Kenny and hugged him, "Daddy, please! Please don't shoot Kenny!" She cried.

"K-Karen…," Kenny spoke forcefully through tears, "G-go back with Kevin… I'll be alright…," he tried to smile.

"He'll kill you!" She helped Kenny back into an unsteady standing position.

"I'll kill you too if you don't get away from him, bitch!" Stuart yelled at his daughter.

"Go!" Kenny pushed her away toward the hall.

"Please… D-don't do this, dad… I won't tell anyone…" Kenny cried pathetically.

"Oh! Look, Carol! Our good-for-nothing son isn't as stupid as he comes across! He knows dead little boys can't talk!" Rage filled his eyes as he pointed the gun directly at Kenny's head.

"You're fucking crazy!" Carol attacked her husband.

"Mom!" The kids yelled in fear.

"What are you doing?!" He struggled with her.

"I'm not going to let you kill our son!" She screamed.

"Get off me, bitch!" He started hitting her with his free hand as she grappled for the gun.

A single shot rang out.

It seemed as the whole world went silent in the proceeding moment.

Unnatural warmth prompted Kenny to look down at his lower torso area.

Blood seeped through his jacket, quickly diffusing from a small spot to a large blotch.

He fell to the floor.

His vision blurred as darkness enveloped him.


	9. Chapter 9

"Why didn't I say anything? I knew I just sh-shoulda told someone even though he didn't want me to…," Butters wiped his eyes as he whispered to himself from his seat next to Kenny.

The severely injured boy lie unresponsive in a hospital bed. Multiple cords ran from him to nearby medical equipment. Tubes ran from a bag of blood and a bag of medicine hanging from an I.V. stand into his arm. His abdomen and head were thickly bandaged. Weak vitals displayed on a monitor beside the bed, slow heartbeats characterized by a mechanical beeping noise.

"This is all my fault… If i just would've said something… Maybe this wouldn't have happened…"

Butters contemplated that possibility for a few moments.

"Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!" He was angry with himself. He had to hit something and instead of the wall, he settled for punching the plastic railing of the hospital bed.

"Ow!" He yelped, shaking his hand.

"Butters…?"

Butters was taken off guard by the shaky voice, still focusing on his stinging hand.

He looked up, Kenny's eyes were open.

"Kenny!" Butters exasperated. He wanted to hug his best friend tight but restrained himself.

Kenny moaned in pain, "Wh-Where am I?"

"You're in the hospital, Kenny," Butters attempted to speak in the most comforting manner possible.

"Wh-What happened…?"

"What - uh - what do you remember?" Butters prompted, unsure how much yet another concussion could have affected his friend's memory.

"I - I remember being at your house and eating… " He groggily looked at Butters.

"Yeah."

"Then I remember being late… I ran home and dad - dad wasn't too happy with me…"

Butters fidgeted nervously with his hands, "Yeah… Wul… Your dad beat you up pretty good this time… He pulled a gun and -," he exhaled deeply, "The bullet was a clean in and out they said… But it did go right through your st-stomach, which is pretty serious - I guess…"

Kenny began to recall bits and pieces of the exchange he had with his father. On one hand, Kenny was surprised that his own father had shot him. One the other hand, he felt something like this would happen eventually.

"Kenny? You okay?" Butters observed the trance-like state his best friend appeared to be in.

"Where is everyone else…?" Kenny looked around the empty room, "Karen, Kevin, Mom…?"

"They're - They're down in the cafeteria getting lunch…," Butters lied as to not upset Kenny anymore than need be.

Butters continued, "You've been through three surgeries already…"

"Th-Three...?" Kenny inquired, "H-How long have I been here…?"

"Only a little over a day… They were emergency surgeries to fix major things… They still need to do one more for something a little less serious…"

"When…?" Kenny seemed a little scared.

"They - They were actually coming to get you soon…"

Kenny's heart skipped a beat, "S-Soon?"

Butters could see the expression of fear on his friend's face as a nurse walked through the door.

"Look who's awake!" The female nurse smiled as she walked over to Kenny.

"How you feeling, sweetie?" She ran her hand through Kenny's hair.

"B-bad…"

She gave a frown of empathy, "We were just getting read to you back to the OR… We'll make you feel better, I promise."

"We'll take good care of you, Kenny," she could sense his fear.

"I - I better go downstairs too, I said I'd only be a few minutes…," Butters looked at the ground.

Before Butters could walk away, Kenny grabbed his hand and squeezed it tight, "Please… Please don't leave me here alone…," his eyes filled with tears.

Butters looked up at the nurse.

She nodded.

"Don't worry, Ken. I'll be here when you wake up, I promise."


	10. Chapter 10

By the time Kenny came to the room was dark, lit only by the glow of medical machines and light shining in from the hallway through the slightly cracked door.

The room was empty.

No parents. No siblings. Not even Butters.

He was alone, scared, and in a lot of pain.

He wanted to just stand up and walk out of the room to find out what was going on, but his legs were too weak to move.

Feeling defeated, he just closed his eyes and tried to relax for the longest time.

The same nurse from earlier eventually walked into the room to check on him.

Kenny opened his eyes as she approached.

"Hey, kiddo," she spoke softly, "You did a good job. You've been sleeping for quite a while…,"

"Y-you said I'd feel better…," Kenny spoke with a frustrated tone, clearly in a great deal of pain.

His spiking vital signs clearly reflected his feeling.

"It hurts?" She asked in a somewhat guilty tone, recalling her earlier promise to the boy.

He responded only with a whine as tears rolled down his cheeks.

The nurse retrieved a syringe and injected it into his I.V. line.

"Just hang in there, Kenny… This should start working pretty fast and you'll feel better - for real this time."

"You lied to me…," Kenny looked at her.

Before she could reply, Kenny continued, "And n-nobody is here… Why isn't anyone here…? W-Why am I here alone…?"

"You want me to sit with you for a while?" She asked, comfortingly.

Kenny nodded.

After a few moments of silence Kenny inquired about his family, "Wh-Where's my mom and my brother and my sister…? Where's my dad…?"

The nurse looked at him very seriously, "You know why you're here, right?"

"Y-Yeah…," Kenny stuttered.

"Your dad was arrested after the incident…"

"Mom…?"

"The police determined she had no part in hurting you directly - she tried to stop your dad - but she was deemed unfit to care for your brother and sister right now. She's attending a mandatory drug and alcohol rehab to get things back together so she can take care of you and your siblings."

Kenny's heart sank.

"W-What about Karen and Kevin, then?"

He already knew the answer.

"Your brother and sister are in temporary foster care until your mom gets better…"

"Why aren't they h-here…?" Kenny asked in confusion.

She sighed, "I don't know… You'd think it'd be better for you and them if they were both here right now… But the state works in stupid ways sometimes."

Kenny's head was become heavier by the second as the potent painkiller began to take effect.

He had no choice but to shut his eyes and fall back asleep.

* * *

"Kenny…," Butters whispered.

"Kenny…?" He gently moved the other boy's shoulder.

As Kenny slowly opened his eyes, the bright fluorescent lights made his head throb.

"Ugh…," he moaned, feeling sick.

"Sorry to wake you up, dude," Stan said regretfully.

"We just wanted to see how you were feeling?" Kyle spoke.

"T-Terrible…," Kenny felt woozy from the cocktail of drugs coursing through his veins.

The group frowned.

"Everybody's worried you, Kenny," Butter's spoke as he searched through his backpack, "The whole c-class spent art period today making you this card… Everyone signed it," he showed it to Kenny and sat it on the stand beside the bed.

"Thanks…"

At least he knew some people cared about him.

"So…," Kyle spoke, "Stan and Butters and I were talking at lunch about what could maybe make you feel better," he grabbed a wrapped box that was hidden by the bed, "And we decided presents always make someone feel better," he smiled as he gently sat the box on Kenny's lap.

"We all chipped in for it," Stan announced.

Kenny just stared at the box trying to remember the last time he got a present. Maybe his birthday two or three years ago, he decided.

"You gonna open it or just look at the box?" Kyle laughed.

Kenny carefully tore at the wrapping to to reveal a large, red remote control truck.

"Wow," Kenny was clearly taken back, "Thanks, guys!" He actually sounded a little excited.

"We knew you would like it - we all have one," Butters said.

"Th-this thing cost like $30… You guys didn't have to do that…"

"If ten bucks a piece makes you feel better, then it was worth it, dude," Stan smiled.

Kenny smiled, "Th-this thing is cool, guys…," he inspected his new toy.

"Now you just need to get better so we can all go out and play with them," Kyle spoke.

The group talked for around an hour.

Stan looked at the clock, "I better get going, Kenny. I still haven't been home since school got out."

"I need to go too," Kyle agreed.

"We'll be back to see you, dude. Hope you feel better soon," both Stan and Kyle bid their farewells before leaving the hospital.

After Stan and Kyle had left the room, Butters spoke, "I have something else I want to give you, Ken."

Kenny looked on as Butters pulled something out of his backpack: a medium sized stuffed animal, modeled after a brown Labrador Retriever.

He handed the gift to Kenny.

"I figured he'd maybe keep you company while we're at school or something…," Butters looked at his feet, almost embarrassed.

"What's his name…?"

"What?" Butters was taken off guard.

"D-Does he have a name…?"

Butters looked at the tag he took off the toy, "It says his name is Hunter…"

"Hunter… That's a cool name…," he smiled, "Th-thanks, Butters… I like him; I've always wanted a puppy…," Kenny held the stuffed animal tight.

"Wul… I better be going too… Mom's gonna have dinner ready by five and I'll get grounded if I'm late…," Butters was cut off by Kenny.

"Why did you lie when I asked you a-about my parents and Karen and Kevin?"

"I - I just didn't want to upset you anymore, Kenny… I'm sorry…," Butters sounded remorseful.

"It's 'kay," Kenny knew he only had the best intentions.

"S-So where am I gonna go when I get better, then…? Foster care again…?" Kenny asked, as if Butters had the answer.

"I'm not s-sure, Ken… All that matters right now is you need to get better… I just want my happy best friend back…"

The boys hugged before Butters walked to the door, "I'll come back to see you every single day for as long as you're in here… And that's a promise I won't break... Even if I get grounded."


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Short update, sorry for the delay.**

* * *

_A few weeks later…_

"Do you need s-some help getting dressed?"

Butters looked on as Kenny gingerly sat up in his hospital bed and carefully stood up.

"I should be alright…," Kenny retrieved some clean clothes Butters' parents had bought him from the nearby counter.

He was finally well enough to be discharged from the hospital.

"I could get a nurse to come in if you don't want me to help…," Butters offered.

"Seriously, Butters," Kenny replied tersely, "I think I can put my own pants on…"

"Alright… Just come out when you're ready. W-We'll be just outside if you need us."

Kenny nodded as Butters closed the door.

The thought of being able to wear something other than that stupid hospital gown was almost a godsend.

Still a little dizzy from the strong painkillers flowing through his veins, he steadied himself on the wall as he pulled his pants up.

He sat down to put his socks and shoes on, saving the shirt for last.

He cautiously pulled his shirt over the bandages on his hands from where the IV needles had been and the large, square bandage and multiple layers of gauze still covering his abdomen.

As he walked out of the room he expected some social service worker to greet him and send him away to another second-rate, mass-foster-care home, as his mother was still in rehab and his brother and sister were still way with an interim family.

Sure enough.

Kenny interrupted the man as he opened his mouth to speak, "Just save the small talk, buddy. I know the drill… Just send me to wherever the hell you're going to send me…," he spoke bitterly, crossing his arms in a pout-like state.

The man chuckled.

"What's so funny?!" Kenny yelled, "You think this is funny you –..."

Butters interrupted him, "Kenny! Calm down!"

Kenny turned to his friend and his parents.

"He's not going to s-send you to a foster home…"

"What do you mean…?"

"Wul… Your mom should be out of rehab in a week or two… I talked to mom and dad and they talked to the child service guys and they said it'd be okay if you stayed with us until then… They thought it'd be easier on you to stay with someone you know since it isn't for a very long time," Butters bumped his knuckles together, "If you wanna, I guess…"

Kenny turned to the man and then to Butters' parents, shocked, "R-Really…?"

"Yes," The man spoke.

"It wouldn't be a problem Kenny," Stephen glanced at his wife.

"We'd love to have you," Linda spoke caringly.

"I – I'm not sure what to say…," Kenny stuttered.

"Just say yes…," Butters whispered.

Kenny smiled, "Yeah… I'll stay with you if you'll let me… Th-Thank you."

"Alright, sweetie," Linda extended her hand to the boy, "Let's get you checked out of here and back to the house… You still look really worn down."


End file.
